


Only Yesterday

by CalicoColors



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Action/Adventure, Canon-Typical Violence, Inspired by Fanart, M/M, Machines and Androids, Pre-Relationship, Tag As I Go, nier:automata au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:07:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23217487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CalicoColors/pseuds/CalicoColors
Summary: YoRHa Type R No.1 is used to the same in, same out, day after day routine. The same duties, the same orders, the same ruins, the same equipment, the same loneliness.That is his duty as an android soldier.This all changes the day a human named Kairi suddenly appears in his world, unintentionally unraveling a web of mystery that threatens to sever this world’s bonds. Along the way, enemies are met, friends are made, journeys are had, and maybe, reconnecting with your human side isn't as difficult as one might think.(A Nier:Automata/KH AU about defying orders, learning the wonders and dangers of adventure, finding your way home, and discovering your heart.)
Relationships: Riku/Sora (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 38





	1. Just Another Day

As always, the city is quiet no matter the time of day.

The empty ruins of the apartment buildings and washed-out storefronts look the same as always in the bright morning sun. The pavement is more grass than brick by this point, and his boots crunch softly in it as he makes his way through the main street.

The architecture still holds together surprisingly well. Even as wood rots and slats crumble and roofs cave, the city is sturdy and resists its call back to nature.

He wonders who will outlast who; the city, or the machines that exist within it.

R1 analyzes his surroundings shrewdly, closing his drifting thoughts off. No time to dwell any longer than he already has. He came here on a mission, after all.

“M4U5, report.”

“Analysis: Black box signal has been recorded in the northernmost building.”

R1 sighs. Of course, it had to be the farthest, tallest building in the city.

Luckily, though, he doesn’t mind the walk. Far from it; it’s the most architecturally-sound building in the entire district. It's the most fascinating one, too. He’s re-read the paperback about the history of the cathedral many times over even though it only took one skim for it to be stored in his long-term memory banks.

There’s something about reading the physical words in hand that’s more satisfying than any recorded memory. It’s a strange, inexplicable phenomenon he can’t help but be drawn into.

R1 doesn’t need to allow himself creature comforts beyond what is necessary to gain information in order to perform his job better. So if reading physical books helps him retain knowledge, then that is what he will do, never mind the enjoyment of the act for him. That is simply coincidence.

In no time at all, he’s staring up the derelict cathedral and tracing the tower spires stretching far above his gaze all the way to the clouds.

Though normally he would love to meander through the long halls and re-memorize the flying buttresses and gothic influences—for research purposes, of course—he does want to make this mission short. Although he technically has all the time in the world, his assignments should always be accomplished promptly and efficiently, as is his role.

Behind him, his Pod whirrs softly as it follows R1 up the stairs. No indication any signs of enemy lifeforms so far. Good.

“M4U5, locate the signal.”

“Understood.”

A ping, and from the two round speakers perched on top of the scanner Pod’s box, a tracking signal scans the perimeter.

Now M4U5 takes the lead and R1 follows, each heavy footfall clanging faintly on the metal stairs.

When they reach the first landing, surrounded by stained glass and overgrown pillars, he pauses on the second set of stairs.

He’s been here thousands of times, it’s always the same, and yet—

Well, who knows? Maybe he missed something. There’s no harm in looking once more. It’s not as if the signal will be going anywhere.

Detouring, he makes his way to the second floor where he knows the library is located, protected from light damage and water from the broken walls with the tarps he put up.

There are still many books left to read. He reaches into a bag and pulls out a few he finished but didn’t care enough to keep, re-filing them according to the decimal classification and covering them back up. Only books that will be read are kept in his personal library—he’s running out of room enough as it is.

With one gloved hand, he plucks off a brightly colored fantasy book he hasn’t perused yet. The cover looks interesting enough; hopefully it’ll keep him entertained.

Or, will provide beneficial information. For research purposes.

He packs it in his side bag, already stuffed full with other treasures. A chipped blue sapphire, a dusty plush cat keychain, freshly picked starfruit, extra-shiny screws and bolts, a white ribbon, cure items…

And, when he glances in the crumbling storage boxes on his way back to the stairs—

A pack of well-preserved colored pencils goes into his bag too.

Those, he packs with extra care. He knows who will appreciate them.

When he returns to the stairs, M4U5 leads him to the roof. By then the Pod’s tracking device is incessantly pinging, meaning their target is nearby.

It’s not hard to see where once he reaches the top.

The glaring sun hides nothing on the bare stone. Screws, bobs, bits of metal are strewn around like confetti, tangled around wires and pooling in red internal fluid. A detached hand lays by his boots, wrist bone metal protruding.

Blanking his processes, R1 takes in the scene.

One android loss. Seven biped machines torn apart. A fight to the bitter end on both sides. Typical.

He swings down his massive collection basket off his back and onto a dry spot. “M4U5, play music.”

“Understood. Any preference?”

“The usual, please.”

A brief flicker of static, and then melodic sound begins playing from the speakers midway through the song where he left off last time. A low voice croons softly, quiet and steady.

_“Always…someone marches brave…”_

Then, with one more deep breath, he gets to work.

YoRHa Type R No. 1 is a Retrieval type unit. Like all YoRHa androids, he wears the standard black suit and eye mask, along with the long white-silver hair common in many models of his base design.

His primary objectives are to collect the fallen bodies of androids and scavenge what can be recovered on Earth for the benefit of expanding YoRHa’s military prowess. Typically, units like him are only enlisted in times of crisis’, such as if there a shortage of parts.

Due to them being in the middle of the 14th Machine War, this happens to be the case. Recycling is simply the most economical route.

For androids, true “death” does not occur. YoRHa android files are simply uploaded to the bunker and their forms recreated so there is no real loss as long as their data and memories are re-transferred into a new form.

Most of the time, this process is seamless. Especially with current technology, the chance of file corruption or data loss is low.

With the growing machine threat, which has inexplicably risen in numbers the past few years, more androids have been succumbing to injuries. Hence, the need for more parts to create new physical forms.

It’s up to him to retrieve what is left of the broken husks left behind. _Glory to Mankind._

That is his role. Day after day. City after forest after ocean after mountain after valley. Picking up his dead comrades’ black boxes and power cores and vocal filters and joint bearings coated in a thick layer of blo—

Stop. Breathe. Delete.

Inaccurate. Androids are not truly alive. Therefore, attaching human descriptors onto an android is misleading.

(Power cores are not hearts. Wires are not nerves. Pipes are not veins. Hydraulic fluid is not blood—)

 _(He’s covered in it, drowning, the oil-slick smell of it thick in his artificial lungs, his scent receptors—smeared all over his hands and in his fist, crushed remains of broken bodies, under_ _his hands, **dried under his nails and crushed underfoot—)**_

Stop. Breathe. Delete.

Distracting. These memories are not pertinent to his mission, therefore unimportant.

_“Maybe…a great magnet pulls…all souls to-wards truth…”_

Focus. _Focus._

A deep breath.

_(Forget.)_

Each part is carefully placed in his basket, heaviest at bottom and lightest at top. The breeze is cool up here, helping his internal fans keep his working parts at low temperatures to avoid overheating.

It’s easier this way. To think about engines and motors and tools. That’s all this is.

Simple as that.

The sun has shifted to the center of the sky by the time all the salvageable parts he managed to scrape together are cleaned and organized within his basket.

He tilts his head to the clouds. Hm. The roof is high up here. It would be a perfect place for a flight unit to land and take his collected supplies back so he wouldn’t have to carry the heavy load down and locate a new spot, saving time and energy.

With one quick order to his Pod, he calls the bunker.

“R1!” 9O says cheerily as the video feed connects, pushing her long blonde hair back as it falls into her eyes. “Good morning—or, er, afternoon now! How are you today?”

“Fine,” R1 states. “Objective complete. Please send a flight unit down to retrieve the supplies.”

He’s snipper than usual—always is after a messy retrieval—but 9O takes it in stride, used to his mood swings. “Understood. I shall send one to your coordinates.”

R1 settles in to wait. Flight units always take a long time to reach him. Retrieval units are the lowest priority—if a B or S type needs it more, the flight unit will be delegated to them until finished.

“So…how are you _really?”_ 9O presses.

“Fully operational. At max energy capacity. No maintenance required.”

“You know what I mean, R1.”

R1 sighs. “Yes, I’m fine. Your concern is unnecessary.”

9O hums knowingly. “I’m your Operator, I have to make sure. Isn’t there anything you need for _you?”_

Sadly, M4U5 cannot both play music and call 9O at the same time. That would be nice, but at least he has one out of two good options. “No.”

But…he does want to talk.

9O is probably the closest person he has to a friend, besides M4U5. Even though they’re only coworkers and have never been anything but professional, they are frequently found talking to each other in-between his assignments and her duties. Philosophical discussions, daily activities, strange occurrences, verbal games…

It’s nice. It’s normal. Something he might have done before with his fellow soldiers.

But things are different now.

“I have a surprise for you,” R1 offers to keep the conversation going.

9O perks up. “For me?”

“Mhm.”

“Oh, wait, let me guess! Is it…a book? Or more paper? A cactus?” She frowns as R1’s expression gives nothing away.

He smirks. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

“Not even a hint?”

“Hopefully something to _brighten_ your day.” R1 mimes drawing in the air with a finger, and 9O gasps excitedly. He’s learned her favorite hobby is art, but because paper is so outdated, not many androids are interested with it so supplies are limited. “I’ll send it back with the flight unit. It’ll be the one wrapped in white ribbon.”

“You’re not coming back yet?”

“No.”

“Oh… when do you think you’ll be returning?”

“Whenever the Commander decides.” Which might as well be forever and a day. He’s already been stationed on Earth for a very long time. The inside of the YoRHa base is unfamiliar to him these days.

9O nods in solemn understanding. She could probably count on one hand how often she’s seen him set foot in the bunker since she’s been his Operator.

“Yeah…um, Axel and Roxas have been saying stuff. It’s probably not safe for you here still.”

“…Who?” R1 inquires.

“Ah! I forgot to tell you!” 9O exclaims. “A few of the others have decided on names! Isn’t that cool? We still use our unit numbers during missions of course, but in private—”

“A8 and 12S chose names?” They’re the only ones who would blatantly ‘say stuff’ about him, even when ordered not to. Judging by her tone, it’s probably nothing good.

“Yes, it’s becoming quite the trend.” She looks away. “I’ve…been thinking of one for myself too.”

“Oh.”

“I know you never had any interest in it, but…I don’t know. I’m just fascinated by the idea. Is that weird?”

“I may not have any interest in human naming conventions, but I will call you whatever you wish me to call you, 9O,” he assures.

Now she looks back, and R1 nearly smiles at the sparkle in her eyes. “Thank you, R1. I…well, how does the name Naminé sound? It was, um, that character in the book you sent…”

“I recall.” He sent that book over to 9O a year ago hoping she would enjoy it. It was a whimsical slice of life tale with a shy but crafty protagonist that reminded him of her. “I think it suits you.”

“You think so?”

“I am programmed not to lie, so yes.”

“Thank you!” 9O’s eyes sparkle gratefully. “Um, maybe you could call me that for a little while and I can see how I like it? I don’t mind 9O, though, so you can use either!”

“Of course…Naminé.”

She beams. There’s a brief, comfortable lull as the clouds meander slowly through the sky, filtering the light.

“…How is 12S doing?” R1 almost hesitates in asking.

“Um, still recovering. Some of the Healers are still struggling over that last 10% of his data that refuses to restore. But he’s been fine for a whole three years in the field, so it’s probably not hurting him. It was mostly…Axel, you know.”

“Right.” If after three years H units were unable to fix a corrupted file, then it’s unlikely ever to return. All of 12S’s memories, _Roxas’_ memories of A8, now Axel, of his history as one of original androids on Earth…gone forever.

_(And who’s fault is that again?)_

R1 sharply files those thoughts away.

No use in worrying about it now. If those two insist on keeping grudges, he will continue to stay away.

He will remain calm, cool, and collected. He will not engage. He will be diligent in his duties and unwavering in his loyalty.

_(Because there will be no more second chances for a broken machine like him—)_

Stop. Breathe. Delete.

One cannot change the past. One must move forward. Soldiers do not dwell. _Move on._

The sound of approaching blasters cuts through their conversation.

“The flight unit has arrived. I will talk with you at our next correspondence.”

“Ah—yes! Be careful out there, R1!”

With a nod from Naminé, the screen goes dark. The world instantly goes quiet again, as it always does.

He sighs.

“M4U5, another song, please…”

It’s just another day.

\--

The items are deposited within the flight unit using same process as he had collected them. He keeps the basket, though; there’s always more to retrieve.

R1 had wrapped the white ribbon around the colored pencils as tightly as he could, packing it on top and cradled in the lighter supplies. The eye mask of the fallen android, stamped with her delegation, is carefully tucked beside it as he always does with each fallen body.

He’s careful not to have the ribbon touch anything that was heavily drenched in red oil, even if he’s mostly washed it all off. The lingering remains might damage the wood. Art is not his passion, but he doesn’t want Naminé to be forced to work with broken, stained tools.

_(Ha, doesn’t that sound familar—)_

Stop. Refocus.

Not the _point_ right now.

Still, though, it’s not like there’s much else he can do. There are no new missions at the moment.

Androids are hardy and break rarely, even if the machine threat has grown. They are easily able to heal themselves even if the damage is great. When he does get assigned a retrieval, it’s usually in small numbers.

He cannot return to bunker unless he requires desperate levels of maintenance. Meandering though the alleys searching for supplies is busy work that only leaves him alone with his memory banks—an unfavorable situation. Not even his Pod unit can play music in these tight knit streets unless they want to risk attention.

If he had to put a human term to it…well, he’s almost _bored_.

The city is wide and sprawling. Even though there’s nothing new for him to explore, there may still be parts waiting to be collected. Something he missed.

There almost never is, but this is R1’s duty. Making himself useful. Waiting until he is needed.

But today is far too bright. Today is quiet, and slow, and endless like the gears spinning in his joints forcing him to move ever forward.

Today is not a nice day any longer even if the sky remains as blue and as beautiful as ever.

Maybe he can call it early today, head back to his base, maybe peruse his new book. That prospect is becoming more and more favorable the longer and longer he drags his heavy boots step after step after step…

Anything to take his mind off this.

He’s jolted out of his thoughts as a clatter echoes in the alley when he accidentally kicks a disconnected machine head, bashed into more of a pancake shape than a round one.

A typical sight; machine parts litter the continent. An android likely passed through here and cleaned house. The only downside is that these parts are so mangled there’s nothing to gather, unfortunately.

The farther he walks, the more machine parts clutter the ground.

Strange. He had just cleaned these streets of valuables the other day, so these must be recent. He slows his footfalls, keeping his sensory receptors open.

Some of them are still sparking when he kneels down to check. Oh. This was _very_ recent.

Something feels off about this, and R1’s instinctual programming has never steered him wrong yet, so he walks with more discretion than before.

There’s been no warning of androids in this area. He always receives an alert when others are nearby so he knows to stay away. A resistance android not on the YoRHa network, perhaps?

M4U5 beeps. “Machine lifeforms detected nearby. Proposal: Unit R1 retreat to a safer location as a precaution.”

 _There’s_ the warning.

It’s probably a fighting android as he suspects performing their duty and thinning the machine threat. Nothing major.

Judging by the damage on these machines, they’ve probably got it covered. Other androids do not enjoy talking with him, and he is prohibited from fighting unless absolutely necessary. Better to turn away now than risk running into enemy or ally.

Before he leaves, he can’t resist checking the machines for anything of value. Most of the time it’s nothing worthwhile except for scrap metal, but again, there’s no harm in looking.

A glint catches his eye.

Sure enough, in the clawed fist of one of the small stubby machines, an opal necklace shines radiantly in the light.

Machines enjoy picking up shiny objects, for some reason. It’s a trait he and them share, much as he hates to say. He prefers books or fruit, though—knowledge and fuel, both useful assets.

Though if this necklace was placed on the shelf by his other gemstones, it would match splendidly. He’s never seen an opal quite as radiant as this one.

Tucking away the necklace, he stands back up and considers M4U5’s proposal.

It’s been a while since he’s recharged last. Even though his battery is at max, his files could use some decontamination. Maybe then he’ll be able to focus more on the important instead of constantly looking back.

So he turns away and starts to head back to his base. Tomorrow will be better. Quiet still, but better, and busier, and—

Suddenly, an ear-splitting scream tears through the air.

The next millisecond, R1 is off like a shot.

That was not a shrill robotic scream. Not a machine, then. Conclusion: a fellow android in trouble. He can _help_ those in trouble.

Left, right, right—a heat signature just up ahead, bright and almost overpowering in intensity—the sound of clanging metal and the swish of a weapon though air.

“Analysis, _now!”_

“Analysis: Unknown figure fighting machine lifeforms. Situation is high-risk. Do you wish to continue?”

Unknown figure? Impossible. Pod units can recognize anyone from the oldest YoRHa model to the worst-kept machine. Even unlabeled individuals such as resistance members are tagged as “units” or “machine.”

R1 doesn’t reply to M4U5. He keeps running.

One more turn—

In the central park, overgrown and crowded with weeds, a girl stands in the center of a veritable tide of machines. She’s panting, exhausted, red running down her body to soak into her white-pink robes, not standard issue black.

The first feature he notices about her is giant flower covering half her face. It’s unlike anything he’s ever seen. Perhaps it is similar to eye masks in purpose? A symbol of a new resistance faction?

Stop. Focus. Time is of the essence.

Objective: Assist now, question later.

A machine’s eyes flash red. The girl shouts and raises a weapon to defend herself a second too late—

And R1 parries the biped’s blow before it can hit its mark.

Braveheart swings down, smashing it into its head and sending sparks lancing outwards from the hit before he smoothly falls back into a defensive pose.

Fighting is prohibited for him. He has orders not to engage under any circumstances. Technically, he shouldn’t even be carrying a large weapon, but Braveheart is too much a part of him to him to leave rusting in some dark, dank corner.

Somewhere in his programming, he’s aware that he’s violating orders. He’s aware this could warrant decommissioning. He’s aware of the risk and the liability.

But despite his orders…

R1 spends his days collecting his fallen comrade’s visceral remains. If he has a way to avoid adding another body to the count, even if they will be rebuilt, he will do so.

“Be careful,” he parrots 9O’s parting words to the mysterious figure.

“You—You’re protecting me?”

“Please stand back, ma’am. This will not take long.”

The horde of enemies isn’t as numerous as he thought. From afar it seemed like a lot, but up close he realizes most were already destroyed husks. Very, _very_ destroyed husks. As if they were beaten with a steamroller then exploded for good measure.

Whoever this android is, they’re good. A B type, maybe? That would explain the large weapon. S types can hack and trigger self-destruct, but this does not look to be the case. Or maybe…

_An A?_

But he’s never seen an A type like this, and he would know. Not only that but there are very, very few A types remaining. The few he knows of are in YoRHa. It doesn’t make sense for him to find one out here.

Stop. Breathe. Delete.

Do not dwell. _Questions later._

The machines are readying their next attacks.

He has to focus. He cannot lose this battle. He _cannot_ lose control.

The girl steps up next to him with a fire in her gaze. “I’m not helpless! You can’t just—"

“You are exhausted, ma’am. Do not worry, I have battle capabilities.” To prove this, he cuts down the legs of a biped, watching it creak and crash to the hard ground.

The girl stands there, one eye wide. This close, he observes the giant flower lily encasing the right side of her face, her heavy mis-matched prosthesis arm carrying a—what looks to be a large key, of some kind. _Also_ not standard issue.

Even stranger, it looks familiar. If he had to compare it, it seems very similar to Braveheart.

Her short red hair is matted and soaked with sweat. The red fluid pouring from her many cuts smells like iron instead of hot oil, metallic instead of sickly-sweet, bizarrely—

“You’re one of _those_ things, aren’t you?” She realizes, slowly backing away. “The—the robots!”

R1 tilts his head. His Pod unit keeps the encroaching machines away with gunfire, which gives him plenty of time to process in the second it provides. “Of course.” What a strange question. Doesn’t she recognize his garb?

Then he has to focus. Cut down, block, parry, defend, protect— _be careful, R1, don’t lose control, R1—_

One of the machines blindsides him as he tries to stay calm and not overexert. Just the same as he did, though, the girl guards him, key bit embedded through the machine’s core. He blinks down at its fallen body, the way the park has gone quiet again. That was the last of them.

Good. He kept under control. R1 focuses on deep, steady breathes, willing his wound up energy to burn out before it continues raging.

“Thank you, ma’am—”

The key points to his chest. There’s a furious, desperate fire in the girl’s eyes, one he recognizes all too well. “What do you want with me!? Why can’t you leave me alone?”

R1 raises a hand non-threateningly. “We have never met before. I was simply assisting a comrade in trouble, ma’am. It is against protocol to abandon allies unless ordered otherwise.”

(Which, technically he _is_ ordered otherwise, but that’s not important.)

She squints, breathes short and quick, and her gaze looks to his other hand where Braveheart still rests. Her eye widens. “Where did you get that? Who are you?” Her voice is low, threatening, and R1 suddenly very much understands how she was able to dispatch of those machines even with so many painful wounds.

“YoRHa Type R No.1. Are you an A unit, by chance?”

“What the _hell_ does that mean? I’m asking about what you want and why you have a Keyblade! You’re a robot!”

M4U5 beeps near her, and the girl’s sword swings to it. The weapon is starting to shake in her grip.

“Analysis complete. Unknown android has been identified as a human via DNA analysis. Mission priorities have been adjusted accordingly.”

Behind his mask, R1’s eyes widen.

A _human?_ But how? No humans are left on Earth! They all left!

In an instant, R1 bows, resting on a knee. “Ma’am, my deepest apologies for frightening you with my brash attitude. YoRHa Unit R1, at your service.”

Heavy, oppressive silence.

Then, a thud. R1 looks up to see the girl kneeling on the ground as well, arms clutched around her stomach and body shaking.

He quickly stands, recalling protocol for calming a panic attack. “Please take deep breathes and remain calm, ma’am. You are severely injured. The Earth is not yet safe for inhabitation and you must be taken to a safe location. I will inform the Council and arrange for immediate action—”

 _“No!”_ She yells. “Don’t you dare tell anyone! Please, _please,_ I can’t go back there. Please!”

Her eye blinks once, twice, head thrashing as if to starve off exhaustion. He wants to approach, but the key still points at him.

“Ma’am—"

“I just—” a sob breaks free of her, clear tracks running down from the bloody cuts on her face. “I just want to go home. I don’t know where I am, I don’t know what’s going on, I can’t see out of my right eye and I’m being chased by _creepy robots_ and you have a _Keyblade_ , somehow _…_ god, what is happening?”

Her gaze unfocused abruptly, and R1 catches her before she hits the ground to avoid a concussion. She barely reacts.

Panicked, hurried breathes mutter incoherent words. “There’s…the lab…following me, I couldn’t get ‘way—don’t know what they want, jus’…don’ tell, don’ _tell,_ don’ take me back there…can’t trust…”

And then her breathes even out to sleep, going lax in his arms.

Humans are the highest ranked personnel for all androids, even higher ranked than the Commander. If this person orders him to hold his tongue, he must do so.

But if she will die without medical intervention…

Surely breaking this one rule could be overlooked if it means this human (how? _How_ can a human be here?) will live. Even if it means disciplinary action for him.

Hopefully, though, the damage won’t be so bad to require that.

Besides, if word gets out he engaged in battle with an android and did not attempt to flee, he’s already in a maelstrom of trouble. What’s one more transgression?

M4U5 runs a scanning beam over her prone form. “Analysis: Injuries are numerous yet not fatal. Standard issue medical procedures and bedrest will be sufficient. Proposal: Allow human to recover in a safe, isolated location.”

R1 nods and easily hefts up her weight. He tucks her weapon in his basket—if R1 was her, he would hate to leave behind his weapon especially in an unknown environment.

It hums strangely in his hand, and once again R1 is struck with the sense of déjà vu. Braveheart has a similar-sounding hum. Hm, maybe he could inspect it later while the human heals, just to see if his hunch is correct.

R1 checks her pulse, beating steadily. Good. She’s stable right now, long enough for him to get her somewhere safe and heal up.

But…what is he going to do after, when she wakes up? What is the proper protocol for this situation?

The city is quiet once again, except for the soft breathes of the girl in his arms.

R1 looks down with a long, drawn-out sigh, wondering how so much has changed in such a short amount of time. M4U5 buzzes in agreement.

It’s no longer just another day.


	2. Book Club

Kairi wakes to the sound of music.

It’s something slow and sweet, like those oldies her mom used to play on Sunday mornings when neither of them were busy in their respective duties. A hint of jazzy piano to tap their feet, laughter over a stack of fresh blueberry pancakes…

But there’s no smell of cooking. She frowns and presses herself further into her bed of pillows.

Oh, _ouch._ Everything is sore. Her arms, shoulders, head—jeez, what happened yesterday during training to make her so achy? _And_ she left her prosthetic in? How out of it was she?

Groaning a little, she rolls over and tries to remember—

Before her eyes snap open with a panicked jolt as another voice joins in the chorus.

A male voice. Singing. _Right next to her._

And the memory of the past week slams into her with the force of a Gummiship.

No matter how much pain she’s in, she flips herself off the bed in the next instant, falling into a defensive pose as she tracks where the voice had abruptly cut off. “Who—!?”

A sharp, needling pain suddenly digs in her right eye, making her cry out. God, it feels like it’s drilling into her brain, what the _hell_ did this guy do to her!?

As she presses hands to her face, she abruptly remembers the flower as it tickles her fingertips. Ah. _That._

This thing has been a real pain in the neck for her. Continuously causing problems for her in such a dangerous time like this. Not good, _not good._

 _Keep calm. Relax. Don’t panic,_ she recalls her mentor’s words.

So she strictly avoids thinking about the flower or the pain or the _freaking everything_ and just focuses on calming down before she gets attacked again. In her current state, she can hardly fight off a powerful robot if she’s panicking—

Oh. That’s a _robot,_ not a person.

“Are you alright, ma’am?” the robot asks. Kairi tries to refocus on his form through the cracks in her fingers, gritting her teeth against the pain.

As quick as she can, she takes stock of her surroundings.

She’s in a wide concrete room, stuffed from floor to ceiling with…well, _stuff_. Glass, books, CD’s, blankets, electronics, rocks, dried flowers—there’s a little bit of everything in each corner.

The biggest part is easily the books. It dwarfs everything else in sheer volume, towering in stacks and lined on close-fitted shelves. There must be hundreds alone.

But it’s not cluttered—in fact, everything is meticulously stacked and organized in their own neat little corners. The stuff is even _labeled._ It’s obvious someone cares a lot about it, giving the room an almost homely atmosphere instead of a caging, overwhelming one.

In the center of it all, the robot takes a step towards her, hands outstretched.

_(Threateningly?)_

Kairi goes cold. Her mind blanks, running on instinct.

Flipping her hand down, she calls to Destiny’s Embrace, and watches as the robot whirls around as there’s a flash of light from the table across the room, the weapon he was inspecting now clutched in her grasp.

Kairi holds it with one hand, the other pressing against her right eye— _still_ can’t see anything out of it, stupid weird flower, hell, _hell—_ and swallows nervously. The music cuts off from the tiny robot floating behind the tall one, leaving the room unbearably silent.

“Alright, you better start talking, you—you!” She stammers. “What’s your deal? Huh?”

All her eloquence has been thrown clear out the window. Her job as a diplomat is literally about talking to people, but right now she’s angry, tired, sore, and frightfully weak. Her mentor would throw a fit if she could hear her, but this is desperate times.

Her mentor…a wave of sadness washes over her. Please, _please_ let them be okay…

The robot tilts his head, long silver hair falling over his covered eyes. Why are his eyes covered? What does he have to hide? The other robots didn’t. “Don’t worry. I brought you to my base, that is all. I know every entrance and have a 60-meter perimeter warning system through the tunnels. You’re safe, ma’am.”

Tunnels? That makes sense. She guessed an underground place of some kind based on the cool, damp air and the gray walls. The lights strung throughout the room brighten up the place, making it seem more open than it actually is, but the dreariness lingers.

The question is _where_ , exactly, these tunnels are.

“That wasn’t my question,” she grits.

“Then, I apologize for my poor answer about ‘my deal.’ Could you rephrase the question?” the robot murmurs, demure.

…Alright, he’s got a point there. She wasn’t real specific with that one.

It’s so, so creepy to see such human-like mannerisms in the machines here, wherever _here_ is. If she didn’t know better, she’d think they’re like her: human. Those jokers in the black cloaks certainly fooled her.

But this guy?

He’s just _awkward._ He’s dressed in all black too, but it’s a form-fitting fancy suit instead. He wears it confidently, but everything he says and does is so wooden and clunky he couldn’t be mistaken as anything but machine. Normal people don’t act like that.

And that “ma’am” business! So far, he has been nothing but unwaveringly polite to her, also unlike the others. Heck, he even protected her from those machines…

Oh, no, now she’s feeling kind of bad. This guy saved her life, and she’s, what, threatening him? Talk about manners.

But he’s a _robot_. From what she’s seen of this world so far, is that robots are not to be trusted.

She’s _not_ making that mistake again.

Slowly, her headache ebbs away, and with it flows the steel in her voice. “Here’s how this is going to go. I’ll ask the questions. You answer them truthfully; if you lie, I’ll know, and I’ll attack. Move closer without my say so, and I’ll attack. Fire at me, and I’ll attack. Clear?”

Without hesitating, he nods. “Of course, ma’am. Whatever you command.”

Huh, that was easy. He’s _way_ too agreeable. Weirdly agreeable.

But he seems like he’s being completely serious.

Kairi’s always been a good judge of character, in her opinion. Being stuck in a political power game all her life from being born as a princess kind of forced you into that corner. She has to read the ticks and tells of people and read them _right_ or else she could make a seriously bad move for her kingdom.

That’s for _real people_ though. Machines aren’t bound by morals or personal desires, they’re powered by programming.

Still, _still,_ something in Kairi—maybe her magic, maybe her intuition, maybe her desperate desire for something to make sense in this messed-up world—believes him, just a little bit.

She doesn’t lower her guard, she isn’t stupid, but the steel in her tone eases ever-so-slightly.

“So, who are you again?”

“YoRHa Type R No.1.”

Okay. That’s…not enlightening in the least.

“What’s a YoRHa?”

The robot—R1? Is that the short version of his name? Designation?—looks extremely confused. “You…are the reason for our existence? You built the original androids in your likeness to fight for humanity. We, YoRHa, followed this model in your name to defend the Earth from the machine invasion so that you may return one day. ‘Glory to Mankind.’” He lifts a hand to his breastbone in a salute.

By this point Kairi has lowered her Keyblade completely to the floor, slack in her own confusion.

That’s a lot to unpack. With time she doesn’t have. Focusing on the important-sounding bits…

“You’re a military organization? That defends humans?”

“Of course,” R1 nods. The little floating machine next to him beeps. “It is my duty to protect mankind no matter the cost. My assignment now is to protect you and bring you back home, as this world is still not safe for habitation.”

“And that home would be…?”

“On the moon.”

Yup. He’s still not lying. She’s in a world full of robots (in another universe, perhaps? But that’s a big concept to consider, oh lord, here comes the headache again—) and she can _tell_ the robot is being honest about moon people.

Kairi thought she knew every world, every kingdom and every delegate and every weird government system, and yet she never heard of this. This solidifies the fact that she really is somewhere far from home.

It's definitely not Radiant Garden, that's for sure.

For a second, she considers the other robot, who remains still even in her searching gaze. 

Those black cloaks were sketchy from the start. But this guy…almost feels safe? He’s respecting her wishes by keeping his distance, posture relaxed and unthreatening. He let her sleep in his bed (why do robots need beds? Do they need food, too? Now she’s getting curious) and protected her from rabid machines.

It could be a trick. There’s _always_ a trick. Robots don’t have morals like people do, right?

She feels like she’s treading on a thin, delicate wire, teeter-tottering between trust and doubt _._ It’s getting real annoying to keep being strung along like this.

Okay. Calm down. She just needs to play it safe. It’s just another diplomatic relations mission, right? She’s appealed for worse in much more difficult situations with far less agreeable people.

Also, he’s dangerous. She saw the way he fought, swinging the Keyblade around like it was nothing—

Hold the phone.

“Wait…how do you have a Keyblade?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean—” he cuts off as she points to the weapon slung on his back. “Oh, Braveheart?”

He even knows its name? The Keyblade told him its name?

That means the Keyblade _bonded_ to him.

It’s definitely a light Keyblade, no doubt. But, how does this world have Keyblades? How can a robot have a Keyblade? Robots don’t have hearts! Right?

Gah, all these questions! She needs answers _stat_ or she’s going to scream a bit and maybe burst into tears.

“Yeah. Where did you get it?”

“I found it washed up on the beach many years ago. Not even my finest machine sword spoke to me as much as this weapon does,” R1 explains. He pats the blade softly. “It has been a reliable and true companion. Is…something wrong with it?”

“Ah…no,” Kairi slowly says. “It’s just, um, confusing. And complicated. Difficult to explain.”

“My processes are advanced, I assure you.”

She _cannot_ tell if he’s being a smart aleck. If he is, he’s got the deadpan delivery down pat.

“It’s a long story,” she warns.

He remains unmoving, waiting. She sighs. She really doesn’t want to explain the entire history of her world and Keyblade wielders to him right now.

Judging by the massive pile of books stacked neatly up and down the walls behind him, she guesses this guy really likes stories. They’ll be here all night if she starts down _that_ rabbit hole.

Originally, she wasn’t going to tell him anything. Grab her weapon, bust out, and then find a way home. But today—few days? A week?—has been long and terrible and she’s still feeling all queasy and woozy and she’s just _done_ with all this. She can’t afford to trust so easily but there’s an earnestness to R1 she can’t help but feel comforted by.

It reminds her of back home, of being with Selphie or Wakka and hanging out in the castle gardens till dawn. She _wants_ to trust in her gut instinct telling her to make friends with this guy.

And…as much as she hates to admit it, she might need the help.

He bows after a while when no response from her is forthcoming. “Of course, ma’am. Another time.”

“Um, well…I might be able to tell you a little bit. If you’re here for mankind—you can help me, right?”

He nods quickly, somehow standing even straighter than he already is. “At your service.”

Her weapon lowers completely. She has half a mind to recall it, but she’s still all shaky and nervous. Her right side is completely vulnerable to attack now that she can’t see out of it too good. No, she doesn’t want to risk being unarmed just yet.

If this guy really can help her, he’s her best chance at getting home. To making sure her family and classmates are _safe._ To figuring out what happened to her eye and why a flower’s growing in it. To why her magic’s been on the fritz ever since arriving here and work on getting it back.

Brushing off her robes, she grimaces at the blood staining the whites. Whites are near impossible to clean; this outfit’s probably a lost cause. She also takes stock of her injuries—her magic always healed her fast so most of the small ones are gone, but a large gash on her arm and midriff is bandaged tightly. The pain is a dull throb in the back of her mind now.

She looks up—not quite smiling yet, but her gaze just slightly softer than before. In for a penny…

She offers a hand to shake. Her flesh-and-blood hand.

“Alright, let’s talk. But no more of that ‘ma’am’ stuff, okay? Please, call me Kairi!”

* * *

In less than two hours, R1 has had his entire world programming thrown on its head.

This strange human, Kairi—is not of this world. She is from _another_ world entirely and knows nothing of the war or the machines or the androids or the humans on the moon.

Not only that, but she’s a warrior on her world, although her skills lie not so much in fighting but in words, she claims. R1 doesn’t think that’s entirely true; her fighting skills are nearly as good as her diplomacy, from what he’s seen.

 _On top of that,_ she’s a princess. A figurehead he’s only heard of in stories and fairytales.

It doesn’t compute. How can a person jump between worlds? How is any of this possible? Why is she here?

She explains the most important parts of her long story over a can of beans and a starfruit, all he has to offer her for breakfast. There was no time to gather anything fresher while she rested, and he couldn’t very well leave her alone unprotected.

“There’s a war back on my home planet, too,” Kairi explains. “A lot of people died. A lot of people are _still_ dying. I was being trained in the magic arts for healing because the queen—my mom—didn’t want me in front lines, but, eh, my mentor liked to break the rules and taught me offensive moves anyways. It’s what saved my life after the enemy broke the front and targeted the healers. Came at a price, though.” She jangles her mechanical arm.

Right. Her world also has _magic._ Another fantastical concept.

“The purpose for this war was for the power of this ‘Kingdom Hearts,’ as you say?”

“Yeah. It’s like, the connecting force of all hearts in all worlds. If you control Kingdom Hearts, you control everything.”

Connected hearts? Ultimate power and wisdom?

… _Is_ he in one of his fantasy novels?

She sighs. “It’s hard to explain…somedays I didn’t really understand it myself, but we knew that if its power fell into the wrong hands, the world would be all but destroyed and plunged into darkness. So we were tasked to protect it.”

Kairi sprinkles a little more paprika into the can as he processes. His spice collection is vast and ever-growing; the pleasant smells help him focus when he does work at his camp.

It _seems_ impossible. It sounds crazy.

But why would she lie? From what he’s read about people, they are endlessly curious and incredibly creative. At the end of the stories, they always do the right thing even if it seems impossible.

Therefore, she has no reason to lie to him. Everything adds up, strange as it sounds.

And even if she was lying, he’s just an android. He has no right to speak out against it. What she says is law, as far as he is concerned.

“So, if you say you can travel between worlds…you made the decision to come here? Where are your comrades, then?”

Kairi looks down. “No. It wasn’t my choice. Um, we got ambushed recently, and…it was really, really bad. We were losing, and they kept telling me to run but I refused and…”

She swallows, placing the can on the ground and tucking a leg to her chest.

“Things…happened. My magic went completely off the rails, and it was loud and bloody and really bright and then my…”

Kairi reaches up to her neckline as if to grab something. When her fingers only touch skin, her eyes widen. “My necklace! I—oh no, no, in the fight one of them must have…no, no, no…” she rifles though her robes frantically.

R1 sits up as well. Panic increases stress levels. Stress is not healthy for battle-exhausted androids or humans.

“What did it look like?” Maybe he can find a replacement for her. That would likely reduce her anxiety, hopefully.

“I-it’s this white opal on a silver chain and, she told me it would protect me—it’s one of a kind, we _have_ to go find it, it’s really important to me—!”

Kairi cuts off with a gasp as R1 pulls the necklace out of his bag, wildly reaching out for it.

“That’s the one! You found it! Oh my god!” Clutching it close to her chest, a wide smile spreads over her face, the first he’s seen on her. It makes him want to try one out back, but he holds back. It would only creep her out.

“I collected it from a machine on my walk through the city,” he explains.

“Thank you, thank you so much,” Kairi murmurs gratefully as she re-clasps it around her neck. “You’re a miracle worker!”

His processors malfunction slightly when he hears that, heating up his face. Only 9O and the Commander ever say nice things about him. A human…thinks he’s a miracle?

In that instant, R1 vows to protect this human at all costs. He wants to prove her right.

She rubs a thumb over the gem. “My mom told me it would protect me, and it did, I think. There was a light coming from it when I _—_ after I collapsed. I remember thinking _this is it, that’s the last light I’ll ever see again._ I started to drift off and then, there was this _pain—_ but it wasn’t from the light. I don’t really know where it came from. But now I’m here.”

Kairi winces, rubs at the flower encasing her eye. R1 wonders how she got that, too. Was it from that war?

She doesn’t seem as used to it like she is with her prosthetic. More recent, then.

R1 wants to ask, but knows he has no right to. Talking about something the human is uncomfortable with will only bring undue stress.

It’s upsetting to see her in such pain over it though.

“…so you understand why I need your help, right?”

R1 blinks.

Oh. He zoned out. A flush of shame washes over hm.

What kind of example is he setting, ignoring the person he is assigned to protect at all costs? How _ignorant_ of him.

“My apologies. My processors malfunctioned. Please repeat your question, ma’am.”

“Oh. Um, about going home?”

“Where would that be located, if you are of another world? How do you propose to achieve that?”

“I’m certain it was my magic that brought me here, so I’m sure my magic will bring me back,” she muses. “Thing is I’m just not sure how…”

R1 scans his memory banks for any information about magic. There’s a lot, but most of it is gleaned from fantasy novels and every book has different rules about that. It frustrates him that he’s unable to help in this _one_ place, even if he could answer pretty much every single other question in the world.

But there is one thing he can help with… “I can protect you from the rogue androids you mentioned.”

Kairi nods. “That’s probably what I need help with most. Those guys are ruthless, and they’re hunting me down.”

“What did you say their intent was, again?”

“That’s the crazy thing! Those robots who kidnapped me—or, androids, sorry, you probably don’t like being called robots, huh?”

“It does not matter. I am whatever you wish to call me.”

She gives him a baffled look, like she can’t tell if he’s joking or not. “…Um, alright, I guess. Um, so those androids. They were talking about Kingdom Hearts! But our world doesn’t have your levels of technology, so the androids were definitely from yours. How the heck do they know about it?”

R1 was not informed of any rogue androids in his vicinity. Typically, if there’s one roaming about, a mass warning is sent out to all units to not engage. Within a few days, an Executioner unit is deployed, and the android is no more.

He turns to his Pod. “M4U5, any news?”

It beeps. “Report: No alerts about rogue androids detected.”

Kairi jumps. “Ah! I forgot that was here. This is a…what is it again?”

“Pod Unit M4U5,” R1 explains. The Pod whirls over to Kairi and extends a grabber.

Kairi laughs and accepts the handshake. “Hello, little guy!” M4U5 beeps happily.

R1 relaxes slightly as he watches his Pod zip around Kairi’s head. The human is feeling better. M4U5 is in high spirits. He is succeeding in his duty.

But the thought of the alerts is concerning. A group of rogue androids dressed in black cloaks who would so brazenly attack humans is a high-level threat. Control should have informed them. _He_ should have been informed, even if he’s only a Retrieval unit these days.

It is possible YoRHa simply is not aware of the threat. They have scanners everywhere, but it’s impossible to know everything in such a vast world.

Therefore, his new secondary objective is to inform them of the threat without alerting them about Kairi.

Kairi faces back towards him. “Hey, is it true you’ve never met a human before?”

R1 shakes his head. “We receive broadcasts from them every so often, but no android has ever encountered one to my knowledge, no.”

“Not even one human stayed behind?” She sounds skeptical.

“The Earth is not hospitable yet. They shall remain on the moon base until the machine threat has been wiped out.”

“That’s still insane to think about…I mean, aliens attacking, evil machines, _androids—_ this world is like a scifi novel!”

“You enjoy science fiction books?” Admittedly, it’s not his favorite genre, finding them too inaccurate to properly enjoy, but he has read a few.

“Not really,” she says. “I think my favorite would be romance or political dramas. Maybe a bit of both. Something like, uhh, _Pride and Prejudice?_ You probably haven’t heard of that on your world, though…”

Romance. His processes whirl.

“Austen’s work is detailed, passionate, and invigorating. No line is wasted, no plot thread left behind, and this is what made her writing stand out, especially in the themes of class wars and love. It is an excellent, thought-provoking story with a deep and immersive narrative.”

Kairi blinks. Once. Twice. “You’ve read it!?”

R1 makes his way over to his library. The 800 to 899 section, Literature, is easily his largest shelf, but he finds and pulls out a well-worn copy easily.

“Oh, wow. You weren’t kidding! I guess I shouldn’t make assumptions based on appearances, huh?” Kairi teases. “Which book’s _your_ favorite?”

 _“Stardust,_ by Gaiman,” R1 says without thinking.

Stop. Focus.

What is he saying?

Androids do not have something so frivolous as _favorites._ It’s unimportant. It’s meaningless.

But…Kairi’s eyes light up when he says that, gushing about how much she loves that story. Few other YoRHa units enjoy the literature he collects. Resistance androids, possibly, but—he so rarely talks to anyone that he’s never had a moment to ask.

9O reads and has book discussions with him for a little while before they’re each yelled at by the other Operators for wasting time and are forced to return to their duties. She’s the closest person he considers a _friend,_ even though androids should not really have friends or personal attachments, only professional partners.

This human reminds him so much of 9O, of Naminé, it’s almost uncanny.

It’s what makes him want to be learn more about her though. Maybe…if a human wants to be friends, then it’s okay for an android to have them? Then him and Naminé can hang out more often without it feeling unacceptable, because a human said it’s okay to do that.

That sounds nice, to have friends. To be able to _talk_ with others freely and enjoy that time without looking behind his back for sneering whispers and harsh glares.

He’s glad her earlier hesitation has all but gone away. He must be doing something right, if she feels comfortable in his presence.

Kairi thumbs at the book. “Our worlds must be really, _really_ similar, if you have the same authors I do. It’s almost like an alternate reality instead of another world.”

“Impossible,” R1 scoffs. “Those only exist in science fiction novels.”

Kairi gapes. “Was that a joke? Did you just flip the script on me?”

R1 opens his mouth, shuts it, then deliberately turns away, mentally cursing himself at the slip up.

Focus, focus. You are a bodyguard. You are a _soldier_. There is no time for friendliness in a warzone. Maybe later, but certainly not now!

“I didn’t mean that in a bad way! It was funny,” Kairi hurries to explain.

Funny. He…was funny. Only Naminé has ever laughed at his dry jokes on the days his wires were frayed and he was feeling rebellious enough to make light of his situation.

Now he’s telling it to his _boss._ A human, ranked higher than even the Commander. And—

He’s having _fun._

Stop. Breathe. Focus.

_Focus._

Get her home safe. Stay strong.

He taps his fingers on his thigh in thought. “We should head out soon. Sunrise is within the hour.”

“I slept for that long?” Kairi wonders. “Hey—do androids sleep at all?”

“Yes, in a way. We use the down time to reorganize our files and reboot our systems. It keeps us alert.”

“Oh, okay. Good to know.” There’s a pause. R1 is about to request instructions, but she speaks once again. “By the way…if I ever ask something that makes you uncomfortable, let me know. My mom always told me I was a real nosy kid, ha.”

R1 furrows his brows. “I will answer any question you request of me. That is my duty.”

Truth be told, this has been, so far, one of his favorite conversations he’s ever had (if androids had favorites, of course.) It’s almost on the same level as every conversation he’s ever had with Naminé or those days M4U5 feels particularly chatty, in his own little robotic way.

“No, like—” Kairi finally cuts herself off with a slump. “Ugh, sometimes you seem so _real_ but I forget you still have the mind of a computer. What I’m trying to say is—”

“We need to head out soon,” R1 cuts in bluntly.

Stop. Breathe. Delete.

You are an android. You are a soldier. You are a tool.

(You are not friends.)

Her hands flap around as she backpedals. “I didn’t mean it like that!”

“We need to head out soon.”

“ _Ugh,_ fine, whatever, be all cold, unfeeling machine! Cool, thanks, just what I need. Just get me off this world so I can go help my own.” And she storms away, muttering under her breath and pressing a hand to her eye.

R1 doesn’t react. He continues packing. _Cold, and unfeeling._

Who is he kidding, to dare dream about being anything else?

* * *

Kairi’s clothes are covered in blood and torn in so many places its more rag than dress. It still covers her, luckily, though she wouldn’t have really cared if it didn’t—there’s not much modesty on the battlefield or in a castle full of servants who insist on dressing her every day.

But it definitely sucks. Also drafty and uncomfortable. Good thing R1 is a collector of junk and has an entire section of neatly folded clothes organized by color.

Not by pants or shirts or shoes. _Color._

What a weird method of organization. It’s just another funny quirk that fits the strange android, though.

She picks out a nice, practical ensemble of pinks and blacks after some digging for the appropriate garments. No more medical robes for her—she needs slacks, boots, and sturdy tops if she wants to survive here.

She feels underdressed standing next to the android in the three-piece suit, but then again, he’s an android. He could probably wear nothing but swim trunks and still tear through hordes of enemies for hours with barely a scratch.

Eugh, actually, don’t think about him underdressed. That’s creepy. Also, she doesn’t swing that way.

 _Also—_ robot! Triple weird!

Basic supplies are packed in two bags. R1 carries the larger one of them after he refused to take no for an answer, which is starting to get a little annoying. She hates when people treat her like an invalid, like she can’t do anything because she’s royalty or some other lame excuse like that.

She may not be as strong as some, but she can hold her own. Her mentor made sure of that.

It does take some weight off her, though, which helps because her balance is shot to hell due to her wayward eye and low magic reserves. For some reason, that’s been recharging extremely slowly, and it messes her up. Her magic has never just _not_ been there. It's always been a part of her.

Speaking of—

When she was kidnapped, she remembers the black cloak androids discussing her in between her bouts of wakefulness. Spells were brought up frequently, along with her.

The general conclusion was that the flower was possibly siphoning off her magic. The androids needed that magic for…something about Kingdom Hearts? Her memories of being trapped in that prison are so foggy.

She shudders. The memories are not pleasant ones.

Hopefully they don’t run into them. R1 could fight off one or two probably, but there were a lot of them from what she saw. They’d demolish him.

And then Kairi would have to fight a losing battle, alone in an unfamiliar, unforgiving world. Fun!

Despite her dislike of the machines here so far, R1 isn’t so bad. She doesn’t want to see him hurt, if he can feel true hurt anyways. Would that be offense to ask? Probably; it’s impossible to tell with him. One minute, he’s a stern bucket of bolts. The next, it’s as if she’s talking to just another person like her.

It's all very confusing. He did say not to worry and to ask away, but she's still just a bit wary of this whole alliance and is hesitant on breaking it over a stupid question.

R1 points to the map he handed Kairi. “Where would you like to begin searching?”

Tracing a finger on the roads, she considers.

“Maybe if we go back to where I first arrived, it could give us some clues. My magic leaves traces behind whenever I use it in abundance. If I can read the signature I left behind it might give me a clue…and figure out what the deal is with this stupid flower.”

When she first woke up on this world, the flower had appeared. Well, it was there _before_ she woke up, really. She just first saw it in a puddle when she opened her now-one eye.

Because, back home—

_(The last thing she saw before her eyes would close for the last time was a pink lily emerging from the war-torn dirt—or was it white, and simply stained with blood—reaching for her, bright, bright, powerful—_

_And in an instant, gone.)_

Jeez. This week has been a train wreck.

She needs to get home as quickly as possible. She _needs_ to make sure they’re okay. Did they survive the ambush? Are they okay? Are they looking for her?

She needs answers, too. How did she get here? Who is after her? Why does this android have a Keyblade?

Nothing makes sense!

“Could you describe your surroundings at the time, please? I could assist.”

“Hm…waves. I remember waking up by waves, and sand,” she recalls. Hands grabbed her soon after, hands she stupidly decided to trust, but her face was definitely buried in soft sand and her feet were dipped in cold water.

R1 traces the coastlines. “A beach then, or one of the larger lakes. Did you see your surroundings at all? Even the smallest of details would help.”

“No, I only heard or felt them. I was too drained to do much else…”

R1 nods. “We will begin at the lake, then.” He circles a large body of water far up from their current position. “From there we will start at the top of the coastline and work our way down to the broken islands. This is the most efficient route to follow.”

Kairi bites her lip. There’s a _lot_ of coast to check. It’ll take days, maybe even a week or more to search them all. In that time, who knows what might happen back home? What if everyone at her school is still fighting for their lives, and her abilities could be the ones that could turn the tide for them? How worried is the queen?

But if they guess a random spot, they risk losing track of where they have and have not been, or missing her place. Better to be thorough than be reckless.

Ugh, she sometimes wishes the queen didn’t drill that into her head so much…

“Yeah. Yeah, that makes sense.”

R1 glances at her. “You seem upset.”

“Well, yeah,” Kairi sighs. “I’m just worried about everything. It’s alright, I’ll be okay. Don’t worry about me.”

He doesn’t look convinced, but R1 turns back to the map and continues. “The coasts are far away from most common machine hoard locations, and many androids do not journey that far out because of that. We should be safe from threats as long as we take the quiet roads.”

“How long will take, you think?”

“If we are careful, up to two weeks. If we rush and take the best routes and find the place fast, it could be a week or less.” She bites her lip, and he picks up on her worry. “Don’t worry. I know all the shortcuts by working memory. It _will_ be a week, I assure you.”

The Pod whirrs around Kairi’s head. “Query: Will Unit R1 and Miss Kairi have enough supplies to sustain themselves?”

They gathered as much food and medical supplies and tools as they could in R1's base, but most of the food was gone, which was kind of the most important part. Apparently androids _do_ need to eat, who knew?

If they’re going off the grid for a while, they need to be ready.

“So, we’ll scavenge?” That would add on even more days!

R1 shakes his head. “No. I don’t want to waste any more of your time. Most items we need have been picked clean in the surrounding areas. We can purchase much of it in the local encampment, as well as gather more battle-ready gear to protect ourselves.”

“Hey, wait, I thought nobody was supposed to know!” Kairi accuses.

“We won’t tell them anything,” R1 assures. “We will enter, gather supplies, and then leave without anyone the wiser.”

“I thought you said humans don’t live here,” Kairi accuses. “And that your YoRHa crew is literally floating around Earth in a spaceship? So who’s in the camps?”

“You’re right. However, there are other androids besides YoRHa models on Earth. From the previous Machine Wars, many of them remained and rebuilt in order to continue assisting in the war.”

Huh. So, there’s two different android groups that work together. Interesting!

“You really have to give me the full run down of your world’s history at some point. It sounds so interesting,” Kairi says and lets R1 tuck the map away in his pocket. “They’re…nice, right? Like you?”

A brief flicker of surprise flits over his expression. “Don’t worry. They know how to be discreet and are not nearly as advanced as our models.” R1 points to a cluster of buildings. “I know them, and I’m known around there as taking odd jobs occasionally. You’ll blend right in as long as we don’t attract too much attention.”

What a world she’s trapped in, where a disguised magic-scourged human and an elite military android don’t attract much _attention._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote half of this before realizing these first two chapters are exactly like the beginning of WALL-E without the romance. Lmao! 
> 
> I made a whole playlist for songs R1 might enjoy, so I think in this chapter he'd be listening to "I Can't Make Music" by The Carpenters. The songs aren't really story-relevant and I won't have one for each chapter, but I just think they're fun every once in a while :>
> 
> I'm probably going to be doing Sunday updates for this ^^ hopefully I can stay on track! Thank you to everyone who has read so far, I appreciate ya'll <3


	3. Superstitious

They’re maneuvering around a giant pit surrounded by fallen skyscrapers when M4U5 begins buzzing.

“Alert: Incoming call from the Commander.”

R1 stops where he’s balancing on a thin pipe stretched over a long gap. Stop. Breathe. Focus.

Unexpected, yet manageable. Completely, entirely manageable. Completely.

On the other side of the gap, Kairi looks nervous. “Um…”

“I…cannot ignore this call unless we want to attract undue attention,” R1 grits out. If it was Naminé, he could have made an excuse, but the Commander doesn’t call unless something is to be done.

Of all days, why _now?_

Slowly, Kairi nods. “You don’t think they, um, suspect anything, right?”

“Not likely,” R1 says in a voice more confident than he actually feels. He finishes making his way over the beam and lands in the soft grass beside her. “It will not be long, I’m sure.” There’s an alleyway a few meters away, perfect for a private call.

“I’ll wait over here!” Kairi yells as he walks off.

But R1 pauses at that, expecting her to be following him to at least stay in the building’s shadow. When he looks back, Kairi rolls her eye.

“Go on!” she waves him off. “I can protect myself, you know, and you’re literally _right there._ Nothing’s going to happen.”

R1 debates if he wants to argue over it or not—you can never know for sure—but M4U5 presses on his shoulders as his speaker ears blare slightly louder, forcing him to acquiesce.

“Be right back.”

Protected by two buildings in the alley, checking for any lingering machines, he hurriedly accepts the call.

Commander Aqua’s visage fills the holoframe, as composed as always, with a stern expression devoid of emotion and a formal stance.

Except…it’s barely perceptible, but her blue hair looks just slightly messier than normal, the carefully manicured hair out of sorts as if she was running hands through it.

Yet it is not his place to ask, so R1 ignores his observations and only places a hand to his chest, bowing politely. “Commander.”

“Unit R1,” she acknowledges. “Are you alone?”

Not expecting that lead-in, a cold spike of dread washes over him. “Yes,” he says with just the slightest hesitation, and mentally winces. Rookie mistake. Nothing escapes the Commander’s eyes.

It’s not a lie—he _is_ alone. Right now, at least.

But whatever is going on must be distracting her, because she takes his words at face value.

“I have a lead on our missing Wayfinder.”

R1 lets out a breath. That’s all? Good. As long as she doesn’t mention anything about humanity, then everything’s okay.

Except…wait.

“The Wayfinder? Are you sure?”

“Yes, Terra just called,” Commander Aqua says. There’s a tightly constrained restlessness in her eyes only heighted by her frazzled look. “One of his scouts spotted a figure matching the Wayfinder’s description by the waterside a week ago. Wearing a _distinctive accessory_ ,” she stresses.

R1 searches his memory banks. That could be either the arm guard, the wristband, or the actual charm itself.

Either way, any of those accessories are distinctive enough to be noticed as belonging to a certain someone. The Commander would not let such a solid lead go to waste, not if there’s even a fraction of a chance.

Any other day, he would have jumped on the opportunity to help. Any. Other. Day.

“Commander, if I may be cautious. There’s been no mention of the Wayfinder for years. Why would they reappear now?” _Of all days,_ he thinks snippily, _that ghost just had to come crawling out of the shadows…_

She sighs heavily. “I know, R1. But you know I’ve entrusted this mission to very few others, and you’re the only one I can spare right now who I trust enough to be sensible about this. Terra’s contacts wouldn’t lie, just as I know you wouldn’t for me.”

With every added word R1 feels his central wiring fraying.

The Commander and him have always been close for some inexplicable reason. They were never anything but professional to one another, and even with him many ranks below her level, he was often greeted warmly by her and Terra while he worked on base. The Commander always trusted him to do good work in the field as one of her last— _specially-classed units,_ at the time. And he always did, without fail.

Before, she used to even invite him up for tea once in a blue moon. There was a shared understanding between them from their past histories that they could lean on each other for, a comforting break in their strict schedules and constant monotony.

R1 owes his entire existence to the Commander. Even if most other YoRHa androids would rather see him tossed into an incinerator, she did everything in her power she could to spare his existence. When others wanted to wipe his slate clean and break him for parts, she and Terra fought tirelessly for him.

For that, R1 will do anything she asks of him without question, not just because she is his Commander.

The Wayfinder is his one mission all these years that cannot be trifled with.

Ever since she lost the Wayfinder, she hasn’t been quite the same. She’s always looking towards the past, just like he is, wondering what could have been.

The only difference is she never lost that hope. R1 has been drained of that for some time now.

Therefore, whatever the Commander says goes. Terra would not have said anything if it was not a solid lead. Aqua places absolute trust in him, as does R1.

R1 bows. “Of course, Commander. I will look into it.”

If he can help, then he shall do so. No matter how fractional the chance, he will do what he can to keep that hope alive.

“I’ll send the GPS coordinates to you, R1,” Commander Aqua states. Then, in a whisper almost too quiet to be heard… “Please find him.”

With a firm nod, R1 waits for the Commander to disconnect before he allows himself to slump against the building wall, pressing hands to his cloth covered eyes.

Two colossal surprises in less than 24 hours. It must be his lucky day.

R1 recalls that human phrase of being “stuck between a rock and a hard place.” Only the rock is his obligations to humanity, while the wall is his obligations to an ally.

Never has he been as wracked with indecisiveness as he is now. Not in years. This is all—so sudden. So extreme. All too much.

M4U5 trills. “Query: Unit R1 requires maintenance?”

“No, no, I’m fine,” R1 sighs.

The waterside, huh? At least they were already planning on going there. That makes the decision easier. Now it all depends on _where._

When the GPS coordinates sent by the Commander finish uploading, he pauses—and then further slumps with an even _more_ relieved sigh.

They’re located right next to the lake. The lake they already intended on going to first.

Good, that means he won’t need to make an excuse to Kairi as to why they need to detour away from their intended path. He won’t need to lie any more either; once they reach the lake, he’ll look around, find nothing as he always does, and attempt to jostle Kairi’s memories. Simple.

Relaxed, he composes himself back to normal and heads out of the alley to meet with Kairi—

Only to have his system warnings suddenly flare up.

Because Kairi _is not there anymore._

Braveheart is drawn, M4U5 begins scanning, his thermal sensors are rendered to search for signs of life. A few massive boar, small rabbits—no shouts of machines or buzzing of weaponry—

Stop. There!

A humanoid heat signature, colder than normal but still the right shape, just up ahead. R1 takes off a dead sprint—if anything happened to her, if she was hurt because he was too incompetent to watch over his primary assignment for _five minutes—_

In the shadow of a broken steel beam, the figure turns around to face him, and R1 freezes.

That’s not Kairi.

The figure tilts his head at him in a stiff, familiar motion—android, no doubt. He has long blue hair and a marking scar on his face, an unfamiliar facial structure, and a dull, flat gaze that seems to stare right through him.

R1 processes the black cloak he wears and adjusts his stance to something more fluid. Easier to move if the situation escalates.

He keeps Braveheart lowered and angles his body away. Waiting. Suppressing the frenzy dancing under his skin to assess the situation.

No doubt about it. This is one of the figures Kairi had warned him about.

“Hello,” the rouge android murmurs. He’s unnervingly still. Even the toughest of YoRHa androids shuffle or wiggle as they stand. This figure he would have guessed to be a statue if not for the fluttering cloak and hair. He doesn’t even _breathe._

“Greetings,” R1 returns politely. “State your business, please.”

“I’m looking for something,” he says. “Do not mind me. I will be on my way soon, YoRHa soldier.”

 _Unaffiliated, then, as I thought. Goals unknown._ “I was not informed of any units in the area. Are you part of the resistance camp? I haven’t seen you before,” R1 asks.

The figure smiles. It is just as detached and cold as the rest of him. “In a way.”

R1 waits, but that seems to be all the android has to say, who has started to turn away to walk off to wherever he’s going to search next.

The cool gaze pans over him again. “Have you seen something lost around here, perhaps?”

“What did it look like?” _If he’s asking, then he hasn’t found her yet._

 _Or…he could be lying._ Unaffiliated androids are far better at that than YoRHa ones, and this android is all but stone.

“One of our members unfortunately ‘flew the coop’ recently, and I fear for the safety of others if they are not returned to us in a timely manner. They are highly unstable; the longer they roam, the more danger grows. Their look is distinct and impossible to be mistaken. Say, with bright hair and an even brighter eye..."

His strange golden eyes, flickering with charged energy, fixate on him shrewdly. R1 doesn’t flinch, keeps his posture lax and doesn’t rise to the bait even if his hands _itch_ to swing and bash and rip and grab and _demand—_

“I am only a Retrieval unit. I do not interact with others often and have not seen anyone noteworthy for weeks.”

Lying to others has never been one of R1's strengths. Years of discipline and program edits have trained him better, though. Nuance is key in fickle situations such as this.

Under no circumstances can this enemy be aware of Kairi's presence or his knowledge of her. He must remain stalwart. He must not react.

“Is that so?” the figure murmurs, voice and gaze returning to dispassionate. “Hm. I apologize for wasting your time, then. If you do see a particularly… _lost_ looking duck, however, please inform us. We would be ever so grateful for your cooperation.”

“I do not follow your rules,” R1 snaps, control fracturing the more this android talks around the issue.

The figure smiles again. “Of course you don’t, pet.” Before R1 can retort, he walks away and vanishes deeper into the shadows, golden eyes flickering away.

A beat passes, then another. R1 relaxes his grip and walks forward as well, keeping his senses sharp to peer into the alley where the android had ducked into to see if he could catch a flash of red hair or a white blossom.

But there is nothing in the alley save the faint, lingering scent of ozone.

* * *

Kairi peers around a buffalo, digging her fingers in the soft fur.

R1 had just turned away from the alley where _that thing_ walked down and is now running a hand through his long hair, barking commands to M4U5.

Ever since she run off, he’s been frantic, an out of place appearance on the calm robot.

It’s the most human she’s ever seen an android so far. But what if that’s a trick to try and tempt her out?

God, how could she be so stupid to trust these things _again._

When R1 left to take the call from his “Commander,” Kairi waited only a moment to go and sneak up to the alley mouth and listen in on the conversation. Any information is good information; kingdoms thrive on intel to win wars and maintain power, after all.

She needed to know more about this Commander, and to know what R1 will say about her in private. Was he going to lie to his boss? Did they already find out about her and are already sending a squad to apprehend her and kill R1? Does she need to be ready to fight soon?

She had to know. For her protection.

And of course, _of course,_ they mentioned a “Missing Wayfinder,” which reflexively made her clutch at her pockets where she _knows_ she keeps a handful of hand-sewn wayfinder charms she makes when she’s stressed, miraculously surviving the journey between space and time.

How did they know?

Oh, no. R1 _wasn’t_ going to lie to his Commander. Now that he knows his boss knows about her, he’s going to save his own skin and sell her out! Actually—

Kairi listened in further.

No, R1 doesn’t sound surprised at the mention of this “Wayfinder.” He nods along to it like this is old news!

So he really _was_ going to sell her out, huh?

Kairi had stormed away as silently as she could before the conversation could drag on her nerves any longer. This is her once chance to escape—that overprotective guard dog would hardly let her leave his sight once he comes back, because he has to please his _precious Commander_ by bringing her back in one piece.

She shivered as she walked, sighing heavily. And…darn it, she was actually starting to like R1 a little, starting to _trust_ him…

No more of that. No more!

For her protection, she’s on her own.

Let’s just hope no more surprises come her way, or she’ll beat them into a _pulp—_

In her speed walk, she abruptly pauses. Up ahead, a figure is scanning the grassy plain. As she spotted him from in between the tree thicket, her hair stood up on her neck.

_A black cloak._

That brings her to the present:

Now she’s here, hidden in the middle of a herd of buffalo waiting for the androids to _leave, leave, leave_ so she can get away. Some robots can sense heat signatures apparently, according to R1; if she stands here, then, her signal would be too muddled to recognize…she hopes.

Under no circumstances will she get captured again. _Never._ She’ll die before she does, before they drug her and ask nonsensical questions she can’t answer and coldly discuss experiments over her head and wave freaking _scalpels_ around—

Kairi shudders. _Hell. No._

She saw R1 leave the alley, panic, and then flounder until him and the black cloak strike up a conversation— _Saix,_ was that the name? She recognizes the hair. He was the one that captured her in the first place.

Looking at him now, she presses a hand to her head in disappointment. How could she have ever trust someone like that? The guy is more corpse than any semblance of human.

But even when the black cloak pressed for answers, R1 gave nothing away. He hardly flinched.

Once again helping her.

But that just proves her point! He wants to give her to his Commander, not the cloaks, so he wouldn’t tell them anything. Because she’s some pawn in a stupid power struggle or war or something, right?

Kairi digs one hand in the fur again. Drags the other down her face.

The mere sight of Saix is a really, really bad sign. This whole place is probably crawling with those roaches, and she’s still recovering after her whole ordeal of being on the run and learning how to deal with a massive blind spot. There's also her lack of magic and the migraines associated with them that once again nerfs her fighting abilities.

On the other hand, R1 knows this area. Kairi can use a compass, sure, but R1 has the damn map and all of their supplies. Going on alone is not only a dumb move, but possibly a suicidal one.

She’s stuck between a rock and hard place. The black cloaks, or the military robots.

Even if it’s gross, she presses her face into the buffalo and _screams._ It huffs and continues chewing grass quite merrily.

The Commander mentioned the Wayfinder by the water a week ago— _exactly where she was!_ There’s no doubt it’s about her!

Yet… _yet._

Even for how stiff and formal R1 is, he has a tunnel room full of treasures he collects. He’s honest, but he didn’t _specifically_ tell the Commander that he had her even when they were literally talking about her in code not even ten minutes ago. Or...were they? It wasn't too clear who the "Wayfinder" is. Still, it's the only thing that makes sense.

Maybe…R1 _isn’t_ planning on telling the Commander about her? Maybe he’s planning on checking the waterside to settle his Commander’s curiosity, then secretly help her.

Because without his help, Kairi is going to have a very rough time. There won’t be a herd of buffalo following her wherever she goes to hide her from the cloaks. She’ll either have to fight, or run, and she could handle it, she probably could—

But it’s way too risky.

_Trust in your gut, Kairi._

R1’s even tone is starting to give way to an even more agitated state when she finally stomps her way out of the animals, and he and his little robot friend cut off as she suddenly appears a few meters away.

“Ma’am—Kairi—” Relief washes over the slump in his shoulders, and he starts towards her, pausing when she holds a hand up and backs away again.

He gets the hint and freezes in place. He doesn’t stop talking, though. “Are you okay? Where did you go? What’s wrong?”

Kairi thinks about playing it off, saying something like she went exploring and got lost, but now she’s _mad_ and is tired of being jerked around like a pull toy.

“Tell me the truth, R1. What are you and your boss planning on doing with me?”

R1’s still-raised hands flutter in the air. “You were listening.” It’s a statement.

Kairi waits to see what he’s going to do. If he lunges, she’s at a far enough distance where she could run and find another hiding spot. If he attacks, Destiny’s Embrace is still drawn and she knows how to use it. If he lies, _she’ll know._

Surprisingly, though, R1 does none of those things.

“Making sure you get home safe. Removing the rouge android threat. That’s all.”

“Oh yeah? Then how did your Commander know about me? Huh?”

R1 shakes his head. “That was not about you. It was for a different matter.”

 _Truth,_ her gut instincts sing.

“But—the wayfinder!” She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a handful of her homemade stars.

R1’s mouth opens in a gentle ‘o’ of realization. “Oh, no. No. That was…for something else. I did not know you even made those.”

“Really? _Really?_ How can I trust you?”

Now R1 sighs, dragging a hand through his hair. He looks stressed to hell and back again, torn just as much as she is, his stone image dropping. “It’s classified information. I can tell you, but…please don’t tell anyone else. _Please.”_

Nothing of how this conversation has happened is what she expected. He’s—almost begging?

“I won’t.” Not like there’s anyone _to_ tell.

R1 takes in a deep breath. “It…was an android that Commander Aqua was very close to many, many years ago. We had thought he perished in the war, but recently there’s been sightings of his exact unit type wandering around the area. He used to wear a checkered wristband and an armguard, which is a distinct feature of his older model type.” R1 taps his wrist.

“She never lost the hope that he would come back, that the wayfinder she made for him would bring him home. I think it’s from guilt, mostly. She was the one to make the call for his squad to engage in the war he was lost in, not knowing there was an ambush waiting. Both him and his partner Scanner unit were never found.”

Oh.

Suddenly, Kairi has a little more sympathy for the Commander.

That’s always been her biggest fear. That one day, the queen will retire and she’ll have to pick up the mantle and make all the impossible decisions her mom makes on a daily basis. That someday, she'll make the wrong decision, and her people will be hurt because of it.

Kairi looks at R1’s remorseful expression with a new light. They're all so very human.

“You and her…you’re friends, right?”

“Soldiers do not not get attached,” R1 monotones—then softens. “But…I want to see her back to her old self again. We need an answer of whether he’s alive or dead, soon; she’s going to break if this goes on for another 11 years.”

She nods. Then, with a sigh, dispels Destiny’s Embrace.

“I believe you.”

R1 perks up, cautiously hopeful.

Dusting off her clothes—which now smell like buffalo sweat, ew—she dares to move closer and stand in front of him without fear. “I’m sorry for doubting you. Well, I mean, I had reasons, but—yeah. I shouldn't have acted so rashly."

“It is no trouble. I only wanted to ensure you were okay from that rogue,” R1 assures. Now that she’s closer, M4U5 hovers around her head and makes some noises she now recognizes as scanning. Kairi pokes the Pod and watches its arms wave at her happily.

“No, no—I shouldn’t have lashed out like that. It puts us in danger and it’s rude and crass…”

“I would have done the same, if I knew someone I trusted betrayed me. It just means you’re vigilant,” R1 says. Then he grins. It’s small and not all there but his face instantly brightens up slightly, stance a little more comfortable. 

Kairi smiles back and relaxes.

“Here,” Kairi holds out a hand, pinky raised.

R1 looks down at it as it were a live wire. “Uh…”

“Pinky promise me! If we can’t trust each other, this won’t work out, so we’ll promise to trust in each other and communicate better, okay?”

It’s a little childish, but hey, if it works to give them a piece of mind, then it’s not stupid.

“Oh! I know what that is,” R1 exclaims. “I read it in a book once. It is a very important oath for people, correct?”

Kairi nods. “The most binding oath there is.”

Hesitantly, he hooks his pinky on hers, artificial skin as warm and soft as hers.

“Promise. I’ll get you home safe.”

“And I promise to trust in you and to help you find the Wayfinder.”

He looks surprised. “You don’t need—”

“I want to!” Kairi insists. “It’s on the way, anyways. I don’t know how else to repay you for all you’ve done, so this is all I can help with right now.”

At M4U5’s nudge, R1 gives in. “Alright. It will probably be another dead end, however.”

Kairi looks over the grassy field and watches the buffalo move on. “We’ll work it out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My real reason for writing this fic was to force you guys to read a Riku and Kairi buddy cop story. Punk'd ya!
> 
> For reals though. Sora next time ^^ trying to find a good balance between story progression and character advancement!


	4. Flibbertigibbet

“Do you remember the plan?”

Kairi fiddles with the sand cloak covering her hair. “I’m a, uh, defunct healing android who was found wandering in the desert. I decided to come with you until I can make my own way in the world.”

“Classify yourself as a Healer or H unit, it sounds more believable.” R1 taps his face. “Your flower is poking out.”

“Oh, shoot.” She readjusts the half-mask over her eye. “How’s that?”

R1 gives her one more once over before nodding with satisfaction. With the addition of a half-cloak and a few other tweaks to cover her prosthetic, she looks indistinguishable from a sand-dwelling android.

He wants to tell her that she looks like the _Phantom of the Opera_ , see if that would make her laugh, and he opens his mouth to say so—but decides against it.

“Presentable,” is what he says instead.

Now’s not really the time for jokes. Maybe another time.

“Careful, my ego can only get so inflated,” Kairi teases. R1 tries to speak once again, but shakes his head and moves on. The moment’s passed.

They’re only a block away from the resistance camp. R1 nearly slapped himself when he had the epiphany that he forgot something as simple as a disguise for Kairi. Sure, just waltz in the camp with a person that has very distinctive features that others will most definitely remember while they're being hunted by androids of mysterious and nefarious purposes. That won’t attract attention, not at all.

Hence, the accessorizing.

Kairi frowns and pokes the mask. R1 notices. “Is something wrong?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, sorry. Just itches,” Kairi assures.

R1 wants to pry again, but with the whole pinky promise, he has to trust that she knows what she’s doing. She’ll let him know if something is wrong.

Forcing his overactive processors to relax and not freeze with nerves, R1 leads her into the camp.

It’s a busy day.

Androids of all sizes are bustling around the walled-in area, carrying large boxes or talking in groups or fixing up tools. The shops are active and stock full of supplies, there’s saw blades whirring and hammering from the blacksmith’s location. There’s even a few androids parkouring over the buildings and pavilions above, laughing rancorously.

Kairi’s eye is flitting around every which way, and she shuffles closer to him as she’s nearly bumped by a frazzled-looking android. “Stay close to me,” R1 shouts over the hullabaloo, and she nods back.

With ease, he digs them a path through the crowd, making his way to the back section where he knows the food stalls are.

A few people stop to stare, but not at Kairi. YoRHa units are not as common around these parts; seeing one like him, carrying a large weapon and pushing back the silver hair away from his own mask, instantly starts up whispers as they pass. Normally it wouldn't be so many, but R1 hasn't visited for some time and it shows.

This works out for them, though. It keeps the attention off Kairi.

Once they reach the section, R1 presses a coin bag into her hands.

“I’m unsure as to your tastes in produce. Please purchase whatever you would like.”

She blinks down at it, overwhelmed. “How much is like, an apple?”

R1 points to the sign boards. “Prices should be there. If not, either you or I can ask. The silver coins are 50 G, and the gold are 100 G.”

“Alright. I got this.” Kairi marches up to the stall with determination in her step, striking up conversation with the shopkeeper.

R1 sticks close, of course, but mostly leaves her be once he realizes that she’s got it handled, instead keeping an eye out for threats.

The camp is peaceful; no one would dare strike against a fellow android here unless they have a death wish. Still, infiltration is a non-violent threat he’s well acquainted with. Black cloaks around here would stick out almost as much as he does.

Although…if they took _off_ the cloak, then who’s to say he’ll even recognize them—

A bump to his arm snaps him out of his scan. On reflex, his arm jerks out with a fist raised, and he whirls around.

Blue eyes blink back at him, wide with shock. The arm he had flashed out is blocked by a tan one the android had jerked up to protect his face. Casually, the android drops it and takes a step back.

“Whoa—sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you!” The android laughs. “My fault, I tripped over a rock, shoulda been watching where I was going. Thanks for catching me! Kind of!”

R1 narrows his eyes under his mask and crosses his arms. The android wilts.

“…Okay, I actually wanted to talk to you and needed an excuse.” He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.

YoRHa units aren’t avoided, but many resistance androids are certainly wary around them. The fact this guy had the nerve to just walk up and pull a risky stunt like that on a trigger-happy android like their type is rumored to be in some narrow-minded circles shows either incredible courage or immense stupidity.

“What do you want?”

The guy brightens. He shakes the dust out of his spiked brown hair. “I was curious, is all. Are you really a YoRHa unit? You’ve got the look.” He waves his hands around to gesture at all of him.

“Yes.”

“Oh man,” he gushes. “I’ve never seen one of you up close in so long! I mean, I see you guys from afar, but you always look so busy and I know what you do is important and I mostly stay in the camps anyways, so all the newer models are super unfamiliar to me, and so cool-looking too—"

R1 only stares blankly at the chatterbox trapping him in conversation.

Eventually, the android cuts himself off as realizes R1 hasn’t been tracking. He bashfully scratches the back of his neck. “Oh, whoops. I, uh, kinda went off there. I haven’t even _met_ you yet, technically. Anyways, I’m Sora!” A hand is thrust out between them.

Slowly, R1 places his gloved hand into the other’s covered in fingerless gloves. “YoRHa Type R No.1.”

“A Retrieval unit?” Sora considers. “Huh, I thought those were defunct. Didn’t you guys stop producing those decades ago?”

“There were extenuating circumstances.” This android certainly knows his history. Interesting.

“You must be ancient. Those back were when Attacker units were popular. Wow, you still look amazing for a relic,” Sora teases. “No offense!”

At that, R1 tugs at his sleeves and starts furiously processing a way to casually separate himself from the conversation without being overly rude. “Yes, I suppose. Why do you care?”

“Oh, I’m just interested in this stuff. I’m a tinkerer, see.” Sora reaches into his bag and pulls out—a large cube? Pressing a button on its side, the cube _quacks_ , then starts floating.

“What the—”

“Isn’t he cool?” Sora enthuses. He pokes the hovering box, now starting to glow blue. “I modded him off an old Pod I fished up from the ocean. His name’s Donald! I even coded all the programs for him, he can do like, _everything.”_

“…Really.”

“Yup! He can shock people and whack baddies over the head and glow really brightly and cook a seriously mean omelet…” Sora ticks off his fingers.

M4U5 hovers slightly closer to the cube in curiosity, which quacks again. “Uh…it quacks. Like a duck.”

“I know! I couldn’t get the vocal processors to work right, this model doesn’t usually have them. I think it was meant for stealth? So the only sounds I could get it to make are duck sounds!”

“That’s _ridiculous.”_

Sora gasps and covers Donald’s ears, or whatever counts as ears for a cube. “Hey! Don’t say that about Donald! I love him!”

R1 snorts. “Still ridiculous.”

Sora hums and ping-pongs the Pod in his hands. “C’mon, you can’t tell me you don’t like your Pod just as much, funny quirks and all. I see those cute ear attachments.”

“They are not cute, they're _useful._ ”

“Oh, no, sorry. They’re _super_ cute,” Sora grins.

“They amplify sound and scanning perimeters for wider and farther ranges.”

“Suuure, okay, if that’s all,” Sora teases, tone not buying it. “They’re common in older models, but your Pod looks newer. I’m thinking an A170, which I know for a fact doesn’t have speaker ears. So you added them yourself?”

“I—uh…” R1 doesn’t know a single ounce of knowledge about mechanics. He’s read books and knows the bare minimum, but his mental facilities always drift when he’s trying to digest an engineering book. They never made much sense. Still don’t.

M4U5 was a refurbished Pod given to him by the Commander. He has no idea what goes on in it and doesn't care to know. It just works.

Besides, he never needed to learn about repair. If he got too badly hurt in the field that recovery kits couldn’t cure, it’s not like he had a partner to help him. That would simply be that.

He did rewire one of M4U5’s speakers once, though. It took 3 days and two broken screwdrivers and it’s _still_ crooked to this day, but he did it.

When R1 tells Sora this, he starts excitedly gesturing with his hands and starts firing off questions he barely follows, only catching the vague impression of words and the energy he puts behind them.

This turns into him showing off “Goofy”—a floating green shield with retractable arms—and R1 is becoming weirdly fascinated at the way he describes complicated concepts like AC circuits and logic gates using terminology such as “thingamabobs” and “whatchamacallits.”

R1’s processes are starting to glaze over from sensory overload when Kairi returns bearing gifts.

“R1, could you help me carry this?” She asks, voice muffled behind the veritable mountain of food she’s carrying. R1 hurries to help.

Sora helps catch a bag of jerky before it slips off. “Whoa, this is a lot of stuff.”

“I might have gone a little overboard. He just kept handing me stuff and it all looked so good!” Kairi says sheepishly, before noticing the other android. “Who’s your friend, R1?”

“Oh, uh, I just met him.” How long has he been talking to Sora, again? It feels like only five minutes, but there’s less people in the marketplace now so it must have been longer if most of them have drained out.

Sora greets Kairi enthusiastically once they stuff the supplies into their bags. “Good to meet you!”

“You too! Are you one of the locals?”

“Just visiting on some business. I’m waiting for a friend, so I stopped to see if I could make another one,” Sora grins and gestures to R1, who stutters in response.

Kairi laughs. “You even got him to stammer!”

“I have that effect on people.” He leans in slightly closer to Kairi with squinted eyes. “Hm…I don’t recognize your type—no, no wait, let me guess!” Sora hurries to elaborate as Kairi opens her mouth. “You could be a repurposed fighter from the middle wars? You have an early B-like structure. Oh, maybe a dual model? You have a Scanner’s eyes—or, eye, sorry—hey, do you need a replacement for it? Is that why it’s covered?”

“Oh—um, no, it’s uh…” Kairi stutters over the words, still trying to work through whatever Sora was talking about.

“Sand abrasion,” R1 cuts in. “She’s a recovered H unit from the desert region. A new optical feature is unavailable at the moment as it requires a specific part we are unable to find.”

“Healer, shoot, I wouldn’t have guessed—wait, maybe I can help you! I pick stuff up all the time, I might have a spare. Then I could replace it for ya, no charge.”

“Is that…safe?” Kairi wonders.

“Sure. I practice on myself all the time. Or others if I know I'm good at it!”

Again, R1 is struck silent. Practicing mechanical repairs on one’s self is very risky, especially alone. And this guy does it on a regular basis?

At his incredulous look, Sora waves it off. “It’s fine! You just shut down some receptors and have Donald shock you if the part starts malfunctioning, and don't get too crazy with it. Easy!”

“Wow…you, uh, must be really good at it, then,” Kairi says warily.

“Eh, not really. It’s just knowing where to put A into B and stuff. I couldn’t tell someone how to do it for the life of me; you just gotta _feel_ it, you know?”

No, R1 doesn’t know. You don’t “feel” mechanics. It’s far too complex to be understood by something as straightforward as sensing.

Except for this guy apparently. Who is he, anyways?

“Well, regardless. Maybe not right now, but thank you for the offer, Sora,” Kairi offers politely, and Sora nods.

“Sure. I’m here all the time, so let me know if you change your mind.”

R1 doubts that. If he’s here all the time as he claims, then why hasn’t R1 seen him before? His bright personality is unmistakable.

Now that they have supplies, though, they should leave before the questions get personal again. If Sora is given the chance to grill him further—well, R1 would prefer not to go there. He's already stumbled over this conversation enough, no need to give Sora any more reason to remember him.

A diplomatic excuse to leave ASAP is on the tip of his tongue before they’re interrupted, _yet again._

A very familiar voice echoes through the marketplace.

“R1!” Terra calls out, jogging the rest of the way up. “And—Sora! There you are, I was wondering where you wandered off to.”

“Terra,” R1 and Sora say at the same time, then glance back at each other in befuddlement.

“You know him?” R1 questions.

“Yeah! This is the friend I was waiting for.”

Between them, Kairi pokes her head around them to catch a glimpse. Terra notices her and gives her a warm smile. “And another! Hello, there! Who are you?”

“My name is Kairi. It’s nice to meet you.”

R1 gestures to Terra. “He’s the leader of the resistance camp.”

Kairi nods. “Ah, I see. I hope it’s okay for me to be here, sir!”

“No need to be so formal. Everyone’s welcome here,” Terra assures. “Please, call me Terra. Did you come here with Sora?”

“No, R1 helped me out. I’m traveling with him until I can find my own path.”

Internally, R1 cheers. Kairi’s voice is steady and solid and gives nothing away to the perceptive resistance head. Flawless execution.

Terra blinks. “You made a friend, R1?” He sounds overly giddy about this.

R1 crosses his arms. “No need to cause a commotion.”

“Two of them, actually,” Sora pipes up, and R1 prays for him to stop talking. “We’re getting along well!”

Terra presses a hand to his chest proudly, eyes a little watery, and if R1 were a lesser android he would have sighed loudly in exasperation. “That’s great, R1! I’m glad to hear you’re making friends. Are you guys staying for long?”

“No. We’re moving on soon. I was assigned an important mission.” He holds one of his palms up, five points—code.

“I see,” Terra’s eyes glint knowingly, grateful. The Wayfinder is just as important to him as it is to Aqua.

Sora frowns. “Wait, you’re leaving?”

“This was only a supply run, yes.”

“Oh—right, yeah, ‘course,” Sora mutters pensively. “Um, where are you going, then?”

“Classified.”

Sora pouts. “You’re a man of few words, huh, R1?”

“What about you, Sora?” Kairi asks. “What are you going to do?”

“Hm, gather some supplies and then also head out, I guess,” Sora thinks.

“Does this involve the business you have with the resistance camp leader?” R1 can’t help but ask.

“Something like that, in a way,” Sora waves off. R1 narrows his eyes behind the mask.

That was the same cryptic answer the black cloak offered.

Obviously it’s not the same guy, but Kairi _did_ mention there were multiple cloaks. Suddenly, Sora loses his harmless charm in R1’s mind. Now, he’s reclassified as a _suspect._

Why would a simple android of the Army of Humanity make up an excuse to talk to him? Why would he ask them questions, like Kairi’s face or their unit types? Clearly, he’s probing for something, trying to catch them off guard to pluck out their secrets. A spy, perhaps?

…if he is, he’s a terrible one at that.

But Terra’s obviously comfortable with him, and R1 knows Terra well. Even with the kindest of allies he holds himself guarded. He knows Terra trusts easily, but that’s also because he knows how to defend himself.

If Terra trusts Sora, then that should be enough.

Maybe R1’s paranoia is unfounded. But that encounter with the blue haired black cloak rubbed him the wrong way.

R1 _doesn’t_ trust easily.

Kairi doesn’t pick up on the atmosphere, though, strangely enough. She just smiles. “Well, I wish you luck! Hope to see you around.”

“Hope to see you, too!” Sora echoes, smiling a wide, true smile back.

“Before you go, R1, could I talk to you?” Terra asks. “It’ll be quick, I promise.”

“…Sure,” he finally relents when Kairi nods at him. Sora gives Terra a thumbs up and a shooing motion.

Honestly, there’s nothing more he would rather do than just vent to Terra about the insanity his simple Retrieval life has become recently, but he _can’t_ risk it. Not even to Terra, who he respects as much as Commander Aqua and who he knows can keep a secret a mile thick.

Resistance camps are built on secrets, after all, as the machine threat grows. YoRHa helps when they can, but the Army of Humanity has their own missions even if the overall goal is the same. Safe havens are their the only respite as most of them don’t have the same power YoRHa does.

It’s why him and Terra work well together if R1's ever given an assignment here. R1 doesn’t have many people to tell the secrets to.

Terra pulls him away to a separate pavilion, still in sight of Kairi (won’t make that mistake again) but out of hearing range. “So, who is she _really?”_ Terra murmurs. R1’s processes freeze up.

“What do you mean?”

“Unless Aqua started a new production line of Healers I wasn’t informed of, I can tell she isn’t one. Plus, you’re doing the picking thing,” Terra points out. R1 immediately uncrosses his arms and stops picking at the thumbnail skin with his pointer finger. “You only do that when something’s wrong.”

Words bubble in his vocal processors, words he furiously shoves down.

Stop. Breathe. _Focus._

“I…” R1 swallows. “I cannot tell you that. It’s—I can’t. It’s a private matter. But I’ve got it covered.”

A beat passes, then two. Terra sighs. “Alright. I believe you. Just tell me one thing?”

R1 prepares an excuse, an alibi, an apology for whatever Terra will ask of him—

“Are you okay?”

Breath hitching, R1 slumps for the first time, and just—breathes. Not to focus. Not to delete. Just breathe.

“…Yes. It’s just—it’s been a lot.”

Placing a hand on his shoulder, Terra tilts his head and smiles warmly at him. “You’re strong, R1. I know you, and I know that you’re one of the best. Not just in strength, but in spirit. Still don’t be afraid to let us know if you need help, okay? There’s no shame in it.”

R1 nods. “I know. And I will. Thank you.”

With a nod, Terra pulls back and goes to move out, but R1 stops him one more time. “Terra. Who exactly is Sora?”

“Sora? Just one of the runners for a nearby camp. We’re working on a new trade deal.”

“I’ve never seen him before.” And R1 gets around. “New?”

“Actually, no,” Terra says. “He’s been coming and going for a while. We’ve just been doing more trade recently, so it’s been busier.”

R1 crosses his arms. That was too vague to be a true answer. Therefore— “Classified, I presume.”

Smiling apologetically, Terra shrugs. “For the good of everyone, it’s better to keep some secrets under wrap for now. The less who know, the better.”

That is something R1 can relate to. That’s all he seems to collect these days—metals, wires, scorn, and secrets.

Terra pats him on the shoulder as he passes. “Trust me, I know him well. He’s a good guy with a good heart. There’s nothing to worry about. We got this covered.”

 _We don’t have hearts,_ is what he wants to say.

Instead, he just nods. “If you need any help, however…”

“You’d be the first to know,” Terra smiles, and he means it completely.

When they walk back out a few minutes later, R1’s soldier mask is firmly back in place.

Sora and Kairi are in the same spot, thankfully. They seem to be laughing over something.

Pulling a silly face, Sora sticks his fingers to his forehead to poke out as horns. Kairi’s bent in half and clutching her stomach, giggling uncontrollably. “And then he said, ‘You know what’s stupid? This hat. When have you ever not seen me’—oh, hey, welcome back!”

Sora waves. R1 doesn’t bother waving back. “Have a good day. Kairi, let’s go.”

“Hey—R1, don’t be rude! You can’t just order people around like that,” Kairi huffs.

“…My apologies, Kairi,” R1 murmurs, mollified. Maybe he’s not as collected as he thought. After he apologizes, he bows. “I was impatient and insensitive. To you as well, Sora.”

“Jeez, no need to be so uptight either. It’s not like I’m a princess anym—” she stutters over that one. “Or anything! We’re all just androids here! Ha!”

R1 mentally winces. There goes that impeccable concentration—they’re getting too comfortable here. The sooner they leave, the better.

“Catch up with you later, Kairi!” Sora calls before Terra engages him in conversation, and Kairi waves enthusiastically back, which…kind of annoys R1. He leaves for five minutes and what, she’s best friends with Sora? That tacky android with the dorky hair? Hm.

Stop. Breathe. Insults are unbecoming of an android of his caliber.

Yet—it’s obnoxious.

With one last stern nod, Terra waves them off. “Be careful out there.”

R1 shakes his hand in a firm grip, promising. Before they met back up with the others, he told Terra that there were mysterious figures out there, but he didn’t say why; just mentioning to avoid them. Terra would listen.

Terra didn’t seem surprised, oddly enough, which sets off his paranoia again.

_(“Stay away from them, R1,” Terra warns. “They’re bad news.”_

_“Why? If there’s a problem this widespread—“_

_Rubbing a hand down his face, he sighs and adjusts his scarf. “This isn’t something you need to be involved with. Once we know more, I’ll tell you everything, but right now…I just can’t risk it. Please—just stay away, okay?”_

_As if R1 has a choice anymore. But he nods dutifully anyways. Terra’s on edge enough, and R1’s prying will only hinder._

_Besides, when he gets Kairi home, this will all be over soon, he hopes. And then it will all go back to normal._

_Same as always.)_

On their way out of the market—stopping once more to pick up a few extra camping supplies—Kairi turns to him.

“R1, I have a question,” Kairi asks. “Why do all the androids here have names?”

“Many androids from the first machine wars either do not remember their designations or hold no attachment to them, as they are not officially affiliated with their previous groups any longer, and are simply the Army of Humanity,” R1 explains. “Chosen names help reorient their identities.”

“But you don’t.”

“It is an honor to carry a YoRHa number,” R1 recites. “Yet—names have become more popular as of late, I will admit.”

“So a lot of androids are starting to change their names?”

“Some, yes, in private. Officially, however, not many. Terra’s registration number is 11D, for example, as he was originally a YoRHa-exclusive android. He had changed it to fit in better once he was reassigned..”

“Oh, I see. Did he do something wrong? Do you guys get reassigned often?”

“No, neither. We are simply working with the resistance camp for the same goal of protecting humanity, and by providing them support we expand our military strength on Earth,” R1 says. “Terra’s a special case.”

Kairi nods, but her nose is still scrunched up in confusion. “Names just seem easier.”

R1 shrugs. “Computers work best with numbers and simplifications. Names complicate.”

“I guess…” Kairi pensively. “Hey, do you think you’ll ever choose a name?”

He’d be lying if he hadn’t considered it. In fact, there’s a notebook somewhere in his tunnel room filled with crossed out names, the pros and cons of having one, calligraphy and doodles—

It makes sense, to have one. Naminé, Aqua, Terra, Roxas…practically everyone he knows has chosen one in the past decade.

But…

“No,” R1 states. “I don’t think I will.”

He doesn’t need any more attachments to lose, after all.

Just as they’re about to leave the camp, there’s the click of rapidly approaching footsteps behind them and huffing breathes.

 _“Wait!”_ Sora yells. “Where are you guys headed? I could come with you! It’d make travel easier.”

“Not necessary. Thank you for the offer.”

“I don’t know, those bags look real heavy. Are you sure?”

“It’s far from here,” R1 warns. “Nowhere you’ve heard of.”

“I’ve been everywhere! Plus, I have a dune buggy. I could traverse this whole coast in no time at all if I wanted to.”

The fact that Sora specified _coast_ only heightens his paranoia. That’s exactly where they were headed. Why did he say _there,_ of all places?

“No.”

“We could hear him out,” Kairi chimes in, and R1 glares at her in betrayal. Kairi holds her hands out placatingly. “Well, it’s a long walk! Forgive me if I’d like to make it there ASAP.”

“Yeah! The lake’s on my way, anyways, it’d be no trouble—"

“How do you know about that?” R1 barks sharply.

Sora cringes. “Shoot—um, uh—okay, don’t glare at me like that! Terra _might_ have let something slip…”

No, he didn’t. Terra doesn’t ‘let things slip.’ His words are always deliberate—that means he mentioned R1’s mission to Sora, the _top-secret mission,_ and probably gave Sora the go-ahead to bother him about it.

‘I believe you,’ he said. Either he _didn’t,_ or Sora’s just too nosy for his own good.

Sora throws his hands up. “I don’t know anything about what you’re doing, honest! I just know that Terra’s all tied up in knots about it and, well, I offered to help if I could. That’s all I’m here for.”

_Or to pry for information._

Kairi’s gaze doesn’t shift from him, and Sora shuffles under the intense scrutinization.

“You’d slow us down,” R1 states cruelly. No-unit androids are rarely good enough to keep up with someone like him.

“I’m tougher than I look!” Sora holds out a hand, and there’s a distinctive flash of light from an armiger summon that reveals—

Kairi gasps as a simple yellow-and-silver key pops into Sora’s hands.

“That’s the—!” her mouth snaps closed.

“I programmed Donald for battle and Goofy for protection so I could support you too. I promise I wouldn’t hold you back.”

Ignoring that for a moment, R1 looks to Kairi to wonder about her outburst, but her face is smoothed back out in a fair, diplomatic mask.

In the corner, her eye twitches, just barely.

That just spurs him on to get out of this situation before it stresses them both out. _“Thank you_ for the offer Sora, but I’m respectfully asking you to please leave us—"

“—to give us a few moments to discuss, please,” Kairi chirps, cutting him off and pulling him away. R1 gapes.

“What was that for!?”

“I think…we can trust him for now, R1. He’s being honest.”

“He was _just_ about to lie to us, point blank.”

She bites her lip. “I really don’t see any ill-intent coming from a guy like that. Right now, anyways. Look, we just have to be careful not to spill anything and then we could make it to the lake in no time at all.”

Why is she so eager to trust all of a sudden? This was not the case for him. Either Sora’s just that convincing, or something changed.

At his hesitation, she leans in closer, voice low.

“R1, that weapon he has? That’s not just any Keyblade.”

“There’s…differences?”

“I can explain it later when we have more time, but…I have to know why it’s here. That Keyblade type hasn’t been seen in a _century_ on my world, and for good reason.”

R1 considers. There’s more to this story, both Sora and Kairi’s, and while he wants to turn away from them and just follow protocol, he finds he can’t avoid it. Because he’s just as curious.

Maybe this could be beneficial. R1 bets Sora’s a complete blabbermouth; nod along and keep him distracted long enough and he’ll spill secrets without any prompting.

Then he can figure out who the _real_ Sora is under all his “nice” layers.

R1 takes in a deep breath. “How certain are you?”

“Very,” Kairi says, and she does sound sure.

Orders are orders.

Nodding, R1 turns back to Sora. “Very well. We accept your offer to take us to the lakeside.”

With a wide, beaming smiling that lights up his whole face, making his blue eyes sparkle, Sora crows. “Awesome! Let’s get going! Your chariot awaits.”

R1 sighs, already regretting this.

Breathe. Focus.

Delete.

…What a _mess._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My idea for Sora being a tinkerer despite being a techno-confused person in canon is for the matter of sensitivity. Sora's pretty good with hearts, like understanding and accepting them, and in a world populated by machines I thought well, maybe he could understand that too! But he can't explain how to tinker, he's just good at it. Like I'm really good at geometry even though I'm bad at math--it just clicks in my brain, y'know? So that's kind of my thought process here!
> 
> Thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by soursoppi’s fantastic Nier:Automata/KH artwork found [HERE.](https://soursoppi.tumblr.com/post/190442047177/when-you-were-built-from-a-lie-and-nothing-you-do)
> 
> This story is going to take some time to finish. Unlike my last one, I’m more writing this one as I go along, though I do have a definitive end planned out. It’s more a question of when. But I do already have a few chapters outlined!
> 
> I know Sora doesn’t show up this chapter, but yes **the final ship will be R/S! He’ll pop up in a few chapters, don’t worry.**  
>  The city explored in this chapter was kinda modeled after the La Cite de Cloches from DDD. That's how I imagined it!
> 
> Song R1 listened to was “Constant Craving” by K.D. Lang.  
> Title from “Only Yesterday" by The Carpenters. 
> 
> Let me know what you think! Feedback and kudos are much appreciated ^^


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